Pedal and Path: Across the Continent Awheel and AfootThayer, George B. (George Burton)
History
Pedal and Path: Across the Continent Awheel and Afoot
Thayer, George B. (George Burton)
Bicycle touring; United States -- Description and travel
The fog and cold wind made the ladies' cabin the most comfortable
place, and for a while the piano and the strong voices of the many
veterans on board singing their familiar songs made the time pass
pleasantly, but before dark the trouble began. About ten o'clock I went
below, thinking I was fortunate to even secure a clean bunk in the bow
of a boat where the state-rooms were all taken for two weeks ahead. My
bunk-mate, a fine old gentleman from Kansas, had already turned in,
but he came crawling out from his bunk, saying, "I can't stand this
any longer." I did notice the boat lifted things up higher and let
them fall lower than it did during the day, but I felt all right. "O,
I stayed here too long, I guess," said my friend, as he started for
the round box of sawdust near the bunk. A gentleman in the upper bunk
had been leaning out of his bed, intently but quietly looking down in
this same box for some time, but this doleful remark of my bunk-mate
seemed to suddenly touch his sympathetic nerve, and they mutually,
and at the same time, cast away all bitterness in the same small box
of sawdust. My friend's head, which was the lower of the two suspended
over the box, and which was scantily clothed with gray hair, received
a shampoo of a variety of ingredients, but he scarcely minded this
in his haste to get away, and I undressed and went to sleep after a
while, notwithstanding the place was full of men apparently tearing
themselves all to pieces during most of the night.
Yes, I slept some but not as soundly as I have done, for the
seventy-five sick men down there occupied my thoughts some. And
after a while I got the notion into my head that the boat would
not go down into the trough of the sea so far if I held myself up
a little, so I did. When the boat went up, up, every nerve in my
body tingled, and I felt a prickling sensation clear to the ends of
my fingers and toes, and the higher up the boat went the stronger
was the nervous action. But I did not feel sick. Then when the boat
went down I straightened out stiff and rigid in order, if possible,
to hold the boat. Although I saw it did not make much difference
with the boat whether I tried to sustain it or not, yet I could not
relax my muscles sufficiently to rest easily. But in the morning,
before I could get washed, I found out what sea-sickness was, but
only to a slight degree, and for an hour or two.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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